by Britt Ringel
“That seems a little slow,” Vernay remarked as she focused the plot tighter on the group. Individual ship names began to appear on the display next to their icons. The carrier symbol bore the name Avenger.
“Well, I’ll be,” Heskan mumbled. “I wonder what she’s doing here.”
“Replenishing her fighter wing?” Vernay speculated.
Heskan looked hard at the group’s course and speed and then his own. “Diane, is point one-seven-C the best Hussy’s got?”
Selvaggio nodded. “Yes, sir. She’s old.”
“Can you yaw the ship to face that task group so we can get a look at it with the fixed optics?”
Selvaggio reached across her panel and activated Hussy’s port forward thruster. Truesworth fiddled with his controls. Fifteen seconds later, he said, “Good enough, Diane. One second, Captain.”
The wall screen blinked and revealed a close-up of the destroyed bow of a heavy cruiser. A trio of craters had transformed the smooth lines of her hull into a pitted, misshapen skeletal stem. The perspective from Hussy’s forward optical retreated to show a second, severely damaged light cruiser. Behind the smashed cruisers was the surreal image of three-quarters of a frigate.
Stunned silence spread across Hussy’s bridge. The picture moved back further and then located its target. It zoomed quickly upon Avenger. The heavy carrier looked as if something had taken a gigantic bite from its starboard side. The damage was so extensive, Heskan could see into the shambles of the three internal launch bays running down her side and the majority of the hangar deck. No containment fields covered the devastation, just hundreds of meters of sprawling ship compartments opened to the brutal climate of space.
“My God,” Heskan heard someone whisper and realized it was his own voice. Astonished, he could not force himself to look away from the carnage. All of the ships of the task group save one heavy cruiser bore damage ranging from moderate to catastrophic. His disbelieving eyes returned to Avenger, the pride of Third Fleet. We’re losing this war. The realization struck at his core. The red navigation beacon near the Carme tunnel point now made sense. A random thought entered his mind and he looked again at the command cruiser. Not Crusader, Heskan saw. Was she involved in that fight and if so, did she survive? He looked over to a profoundly disheartened Vernay and wondered if she was asking the same, terrible question. Heskan tried to speak but could not muster any words. Instead, he watched with full sympathy as Crusader’s overdue first officer stared straight ahead, sightless. All of the bridge was mesmerized, seemingly ensorcelled by the defeated fleet and its larger meaning.
He glanced tentatively over his shoulder. Lombardi stood dispassionately, keenly aware of the shift in the winds. She has to be thrilled to see this, Heskan thought acridly. It’s just another step toward victory for the Commonwealth, and here I am, delivering one of their own komandors back to them. Am I a traitor? He tried to rein in his emotions as he rationalized. They gave you no choice, Garrett. Better a traitor to your government than to your soul. He cleared his throat. “Diane, face us back toward our direction of travel, please.”
The onscreen tragedy faded, replaced by the sterile system plot.
* * *
Lieutenant Duncan Pittman had only been a full lieutenant for ten months but had served aboard BRS Hasta for over twice that period. The Ranseur-class corvette was just one of the handful of fast ships regulating the New London system but drew more than its fair share of commerce patrol. The ship currently cruised 20lm from the Bree tunnel point, intent on relieving the patrol craft that had been on duty for four days.
“I want sprint speed to the tunnel point immediately!” Pittman heard his captain command. He looked up to see Lieutenant Chandler Brooks hurriedly waving his first officer to the captain’s station. “Dunc, look at this.”
Brooks watched Pittman react as he read the alert message from the Bureau of Internal Security. “What do you think, Duncan?”
Shock was evident in the first officer’s face. “I think we need to get to the tunnel point immediately.” The first officer reread the message before asking, “Is this real, Captain? Maybe it’s an exercise?”
Brooks shook his head. “That’s what I wondered too. Especially since it’s coming from a Navy commander but I’ve authenticated it. He’s attached to a special Internal Security task force.”
“How will we play this, sir?”
Brooks scratched his chin as he considered. “Well, we can’t blow the cover of that I.S. agent. The message is very clear about that.” He underlined the relevant lines of the message with a finger.
“But we must prevent them from leaving this system at all costs,” Pittman said.
Brooks nodded. “Right, ‘until help arrives,’ whatever that means. Further, if there is more than a single ship, we’re going to need help. I want you to send an order with this message attached to the fastest SDSs in the system. We need their support, now.”
The first officer looked up at Hasta’s system plot. “Do you have the ships’ names?”
“No,” Brooks shook his head in frustration. “Typical I.S. cloak and dagger crap. We’ll only know if and when one broadcasts the fake alert. Then we’ll move in and I’ll order it to heave to for a random—” he made air quotes, “—inspection.”
“What if they suspect a set-up?” Pittman asked. “What happens to that agent?”
Brooks cocked his head to one side while shrugging. “Then I guess Agent Jennings will have a very bad day.” He gritted his teeth at his first officer’s reaction. “What do you want me to do, Dunc? We have to stop these ships!”
* * *
Emeray Freighter-26 flickered briefly between tunnel space and normal space before deciding on n-space physics. The ship’s navigator consulted his console screen before announcing their arrival at the Bree tunnel point in the New London star system.
The captain half-heartedly acknowledged receipt and began to enter the ship’s passage into the log per the Emeray Commerce Rules and Standard Procedures Manual. As he was complying, he ordered the mammoth freighter to set course in-system. By the time the freighter set its course, he was already checking his datapad for any new messages he may have received from the standata sync with the tunnel point control orbital.
* * *
Hasta was racing toward the Bree tunnel point at .32c. The conversation with the patrol craft ahead of her had been staggered due to the 12lm distance between the two system defense ships. Brooks promised the desperate junior grade lieutenant commanding the small craft that Hasta would be in position before she was needed. He only required thirty more minutes to make good on his assurance when Hasta’s sensorman alerted, “We just received the fake alert, Captain!” The sensorman zoomed the tactical plot to the space surrounding the Bree tunnel point. “Came from EF Twenty-six. She dove in twelve minutes ago.”
Brooks felt his stress levels spike. “What’s its course?” He scanned the plot for EF-26’s vector line.
“Heading toward New London proper,” the sensorman said as he raised a hand to his mouth in horror. “My God, do they mean to release it there?”
Brooks pressed down on his chair arm console and began to record his message. “Lieutenant Thompson, move your patrol craft to prevent EF Twenty-six’s escape back into the Bree tunnel but make no overt actions. Hasta will intercept the freighter.” Brooks looked at his sensorman. “Encode and send it.”
From his left, Brooks heard Pittman groan. “The other ‘vettes are still so far away. What if a second ship dives out?”
Brooks raised his hand and made a calming gesture. “Thompson can intercept the next one and once Captain McBride in Poniard receives our message, he’ll be here in a little less than three and a half hours.” Brooks took a cleansing breath. “We still have things under control. How long until we reach that Emeray freighter?”
“Twenty-seven minutes.”
* * *
“Hasta is changing course, Captain,” Truesworth announced.
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Twenty minutes ago, the corvette closing on the Bree tunnel point had dramatically increased its speed. Now, Hussy’s system plot swung the nimble ship’s vector in a slight adjustment.
Truesworth stared at his station panel and judged, “I think she’s going to intercept that freighter, sir.”
Both Vernay and Lombardi were standing around the captain’s console. Vernay smirked at the news. “There’s our lucky winner,” she said sarcastically. “Wish there was a way to confirm it.”
“Yeah, it’s odd,” Heskan agreed. “We can embed messages into the military portion of the standata because of my clearance but we don’t have the equipment on Hussy to read it.” He pointed at Hasta’s symbol. “That’s our confirmation though. That ‘vette captain received my alert. Now, that freighter just dove in with Brewer’s warning about us, which caused the ‘vette to sprint toward it.”
“That freighter captain is in for a fun time,” Lombardi predicted.
Heskan nodded. “I’m glad it’s an Emeray freighter. It’s a reputable shipping line and that captain will surely comply with any orders he receives. I’d hate for an innocent freighter crew to get hurt because of my decoy.”
Vernay calculated time and distances before stating, “Based on when Hasta started sprinting toward the tunnel point, we should know in about an hour and a half if Poniard is going to move.” She displayed her crossed fingers to Heskan.
BRS Poniard, a Dagger-class corvette, orbited near the Bianca tunnel point, 66lm from the tunnel to Bree. When Heskan released his message back in Bree, he hoped his warning about multiple freighters would tie up the majority of the system defense ships within New London. Due to the orbital position of the primary planet, the various system defense ships stationed there would require a very long stern pursuit if they eventually were ordered after Hussy. Heskan studied the plot as he thought optimistically, Only the corvette at Bianca and the patrol craft at Chelsea are immediate hazards for us. Bianca is looking more and more like the smartest choice. Of course, that could change quickly, Garrett. You know better than most how fast those corvettes are.
* * *
Emeray Freighter-26 was thirty-seven minutes into her journey toward the planet. The shipping run had gone like clockwork and the captain knew the entire crew was looking forward to some time at home.
The captain heard the communication panel’s distinctive warble before its attending officer said, “Incoming message from that corvette, Captain. I’m playing it now.”
The captain groaned inwardly. He had noticed the lithe ship’s course adjustment quite some time ago and feared the worst.
“Emeray Freighter Twenty-Six, this is Captain Chandler Brooks of BRS Hasta. You will immediately heave to and submit your ship for a ship’s inspection per ISC Rule 4505.25. Acknowledge.”
“Oh, bloody hell,” the captain cursed. “Is there some higher power at work here trying to keep us from home?” He looked toward his navigator and sighed. “You heard the man, Josey. Heave us to.”
* * *
Over three hours had passed since Hussy first dove into New London, and the timeworn freighter was still another three hours from the Bianca tunnel point. Nearly two hours ago, Heskan enjoyed the irony of his relief when BRS Poniard’s symbol on the system plot spun away from the Bianca tunnel and toward them without warning. The vector line drawn behind the symbol had increased dramatically as the corvette sprinted toward the Bree tunnel point at a blistering speed.
The distance between the two ships had closed precipitously at half the speed of light before, just twenty-one minutes ago, the freighter and corvette passed each other. As their closing speed inverted and the distance between them grew, a cheer erupted on Hussy’s bridge at the passage of their final obstacle in the system.
Heskan now looked at the system plot with growing confidence. Hasta was at relative rest next to the Emeray freighter and Hussy had transited enough of the system that the patrol craft stationed at Chelsea was no longer a concern. The final threat, Poniard, was 10.5lm behind them and drawing away rapidly.
He was beginning to believe that their luck would hold out.
Chapter 16
Secretary Brewer blinked several times to clear his vision. In front of him, he heard confirmation of their arrival in the New London star system while he scanned the system plot for information. The plot updated in seconds and Brewer found what he was looking for. “Set course for that corvette and freighter,” he ordered, bypassing Envoy-3’s captain. Brewer then stared harder at the pair of symbols, resting in space. The freighter was labeled EF-26. “That is not Hussy,” he stated calmly while shaking his head in disgust.
“Maybe he switched ships, sir?” the captain ventured.
Brewer ignored the speculation and said, “Find Hussy now; I know she’s here.” His gaze moved uncomprehendingly to Hasta. The tone of his voice became menacing. “And find out why in the hell that ‘vette is sitting idly there when it should be after Commander Heskan.”
Minutes later, Hussy was located. Brewer was about to curse how far the freighter had traveled when Hasta’s captain appeared on a side screen.
“Attention, Envoy-Three, this is Captain Chandler Brooks from BRS Hasta. We have detained the ringleader ship en route to New London but have yet to ascertain the identity of any of its co-conspirator vessels.”
Hussy was 35.5lm from Envoy-3, just 30.5lm from the Bianca tunnel point. “What is that fool talking about?” Brewer asked angrily while gesturing at the corvette captain.
Chandler’s message continued, “I have requested additional corvette support from both New London and the nearby tunnel points. Poniard is currently twenty-six light-minutes from us and will arrive in one hour and eighteen minutes. Finally, we have a patrol craft stationed on the Bree tunnel point to ensure none of the other ships can escape.”
“What other ships?” Brewer questioned, to no one in particular. “How… open a channel to that idiot.”
The communications officer worked the controls and then signaled Brewer.
“Captain Brooks,” Brewer began in an eerily dulcet tone, “please explain why you have disregarded my personal order to detain the civilian freighter CSV Hussy.” He looked at the comm officer and said through gritted teeth, “Send that.”
Five minutes passed as the message raced to Hasta at the speed of light. Five additional minutes expired before Brewer received its reply. An unsteady Chandler Brooks looked warily at him while he spoke. “M-Mr. Secretary,” the young man stuttered, “nearly four hours ago, we received a priority-one message from the Bureau of Internal Security stating that an anarchist faction raided a Federation weapons lab and stole several samples of an illegal, weaponized virus. We were told that there were as many as five ships carrying the virus and that these renegades may be targeting New London.”
Brewer’s face grew tight; he shut his eyes and dropped his head as Brooks continued to speak.
“One of your deep-cover agents,” Brooks looked away to consult the message, “an Agent Aaron Jennings, confirmed the plot and infiltrated the lead ship. The priority message indicates that Agent Jennings managed to embed an alert hidden in standata that the lead freighter could not access and that when the freighter dove into our system, it would send out its own priority alert. This was Jennings’ signal for us to detain the freighter but not to board it.” Fear around Brooks’ eyes caused him to add, “The message is confirmed as authentic, Mr. Secretary, not only from Agent Jennings himself but from a naval representative on an I.S. task force.”
Brewer fit the pieces together and shook his head while fighting a slight smile. You used Jennings’ stolen datapad to back up your own credentials, didn’t you, Garrett? The half-smile grew. Well done, I didn’t see that coming. Brewer looked up at Hussy’s symbol. “What a waste,” he lamented.
“Pardon, Mr. Secretary?” Envoy-3’s captain asked.
“Get Poniard turned around, Captain.” The corvette was currently 16.5lm from Hussy. Envo
y-3’s order to pursue Hussy would need a full twenty-one minutes to reach her. “She must reach Hussy before it dives.”
“It will be close,” the captain said. “If she makes the interception, what’s she supposed to do?”
Brewer sighed. “Obliterate it.”
* * *
Thirty minutes later, Heskan’s wait was over. Once Poniard passed Hussy, all that remained was to focus on the Bree tunnel point and wait for the inevitable. Heskan saw Envoy-3’s beacon appear at the tunnel point before Truesworth could even announce its arrival.
“Well,” Lombardi said, “we knew he could not give up.”
Vernay gave Lombardi a slight nod and added, “Good thing we moved forward with the captain’s plan or Poniard would be at the Bianca tunnel point, waiting for us.”
Lombardi nervously looked at the corvette on the system plot. “They will recall it. How fast can it sail?”
“Point three-three-C,” the entire bridge answered in unison.
Lombardi looked curiously around the room, causing Heskan to smile widely as he explained, “We have a little experience with the Dagger-class corvettes.”
“Thar she spins, Captain,” Truesworth noted as Poniard’s heading reversed radically and her vector line shortened.
“Who wins the race to the tunnel point, Tenente?” Lombardi asked Selvaggio.
“There’s no queue to Bianca—”
“Like we’d wait,” Vernay interjected.
“—and we’re twenty-four light-minutes from the tunnel point. At point one-seven-C, we need two hours, twenty-nine minutes and fifty-nine seconds until we can dive.” Selvaggio typed rapidly on her console keyboard. “Poniard will enter her weapons envelope in two hours, thirty minutes and forty-one seconds.” She double-checked her math. “Wait a minute, she still has to accelerate toward us.” Poniard’s growing vector line was long but still not showing .33c. Selvaggio ran her final tally and turned toward Lombardi. “She’s going to be about two minutes too late.”
